


Two hearts, one soul… no easy way out

by stjarna



Series: Two hearts... [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate S6 spec, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Feels, No Self-cest, No Threesome, Sequel, Sequel that can be read without Part 1, Two Fitzs, complicated relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 11:23:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14768618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: Follow-up to“Two hearts, one soul”(but could be read without having read Part 1). Canon AU where both Fitzs live (no threesome / no self-cest).





	Two hearts, one soul… no easy way out

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to @dilkirani for the beta.  
> Banner by me.

The Zephyr’s on autopilot, most of the crew asleep. It’s nighttime by the arbitrary Earth standards they set for themselves during their journey through space. The plane doesn’t have the speed Enoch’s ship can conjure. So even though they’d managed to make contact with the Chronicom, even though they can see their destination glittering in the distance like a shiny, metallic gem floating in front of the planet it used as a hiding spot, they’re still hours away from reaching it.

He’s not surprised to find her standing in the cockpit, looking at that silvery spot in the distance, her arms wrapped around herself. It reminds him of how he’d found her back then, waiting by a window, looking to the horizon, awaiting a sunrise, a new dawn, a new beginning.

He clears his throat quietly and she turns her head, a smile spreading across her face that he can’t help but mirror.

“Hey,” he says quietly, tucking his hands in his pockets and taking the last few steps until he stands next to her.

“Hey,” she breathes, her eyes beaming with love and adoration.

Sometimes he still can’t believe she’d look at him that way and yet he doesn’t dare imagine a time when she won’t.

“Almost there,” she says, happily.

He nods in silence, the corners of his mouth ticked up, because how can he not smile when she’s filled with such joy.

His gaze wanders to Enoch’s ship, and for a moment, all is quiet.

He takes a deep breath, exhales slowly, allows his mind to go over his arguments one last time.

“I’ve been thinking,” he finally breaks the silence.

Her head turns in his direction, her eyes both surprised and curious. “Hmm?”

He wets his lips, hesitating once more, before daring to speak. “You should go and see him alone.”

“What?” She furrows her brow, shaking her head. “No, we said we’d do this together.”

His eyes wander to the ground, guilty to have disappointed her. “Yeah, I know,” he mumbles, “but—”

He exhales sharply, forcing himself to look back at her. She deserves that much. _He_ deserves that much. “When I went into that capsule, all I could think of was you. All I wished for, was to see you again. All I dreamed about was that you’d already be there when I woke up.”

He can’t help but smile, noticing the soft shimmer of love in her eyes as she listens to him.

He lifts his shoulders, apologetically. “Seeing myself was definitely not on my list.”

She chuckles sadly, before nodding. “Alright.”

He sighs in relief, while at the same time his heart fills with nervousness. He reaches forward, placing his hands on her shoulders, gently rubbing up and down her arms.

“Just don’t… Just don’t—” he stammers quietly.

She ticks her head to one side, her look both a little reprimanding and encouraging. She cups his face, caressing his cheeks. “I told you, I could never love anyone more than I love you,” she reminds him softly. “Not even yourself.”

* * *

She can’t help but smile when his eyes open, immediately growing wider when he notices her. His body stirs in the confined space he’s trapped in, and she notices him moving his hands, trying to push the capsule open. When the lid lifts he scrambles to sit up, his eyes briefly glazing over as he’s overcome by dizziness. He tries to stand up and she catches him when he almost falls.

“Jemma,” he says, breathlessly, his lips twitching into the ghost of a smile. “You’re here. I found you. I found you.” His words are stuttering, almost voiceless, as his trembling hands cup her face and his quivering lips kiss her.

“I've missed you so much,” he croaks, pressing another gentle kiss to her lips before gazing straight into her soul, his thumbs caressing the soft skin below her eyes. “I don’t know if Enoch told you, but I spent six months locked up in an off-the-books military prison and almost 80 years frozen in space. All just hoping to find you, and here you are.” He laughs quietly and Jemma can’t stop her eyes from welling up.

“And I realized something,” he continues, his tone laced with a sense of confidence and pride. “The universe can't stop us. It can’t. 'Cause we've crossed galaxies. We've traveled through time. We've survived the bottom of the Atlantic just so we could be together.”

He swallows hard. “And a love like that is stronger than any curse. You and I, we’re unstoppable together.”

She can’t help but laugh, and yet tears stream down her face.

“I... I don't want to live another day without you.” He pauses, his chest heaving. “So, Jemma Simmons, will you marry me?”

Another shaky laugh escapes her. She bites her lip, feeling the watery stream of more tears snaking down her cheeks. She cups his face, kissing him urgently.

“Yes, I will,” she whispers against his lips, before bringing just enough distance between them to look into his eyes. “I already did.”

His happy expression dissipates, morphs into confusion as he furrows his brow.

“This isn’t the future, Fitz,” she tries to explain. “It’s only been a few weeks since you went into the cryo chamber.”

He grabs her wrists, slowly removing her hands from his cheeks. “Wha—?”

“We saved the world, Fitz,” she tells him, noticing the slight nervous tremor in her own voice.

“But how? You were… you and the others were—”

Her face briefly distorts into a sad grimace, before she manages to compose herself again.

“Time is strange, Fitz,” she begins her explanation, “—and complicated. And while you may argue against it, because you weren’t there to witness the proof, it’s not fixed.”

He wrinkles his forehead, a thousand questions written in his eyes.

“We were in a loop,” she continues. “The monolith would take the team into the future. You’d be left behind. You’d travel to the future in this capsule. We’d find a way back to the present. We’d try to save the world and we’d fail.”

She swallows, hoping to break through the sudden tightness in her throat, blinking to keep the tears at bay. “Every time. Maybe some details were different each time—we’ll never know, but… but in the end, we’d fail and the loop would start all over again.”

A smile flashes across her face. “Until this time. This time we fixed it. This time we broke the loop.”

His eyes soften, but the doubt and questions don’t fully disappear.

Her expression sombers and for a moment she can’t bring herself to meet his eyes. “But in this current timeline—”

“—I’d already taken off to the future,” he mutters, knowingly.

The corners of her mouth quirk up briefly and she gazes back up to look at him. “Yes.”

“ _And_ I from the previous loop had travelled back to the present with you.”

“Yes.”

He bobs his head in understanding. “There are two of me.”

It’s not a question, it’s the only logical conclusion, which of course he’d reach.

“Yes,” she confirms.

His lips twitch barely noticably and he grabs her left hand, slowly raising it to study the ring on her finger. “You said yes when I proposed.”

She chuckles weakly. “Well, you said yes when _I_ proposed, technically speaking.”

He scoffs, his eyes wandering back to meet hers. “And we got married?” he asks quietly.

She nods, shrugging slightly. “We didn’t want to waste anymore time. What with the end of the world looming and all that.”

An amused puff of air escapes him and he smiles at her one-sidedly, before the thoughtful wrinkles return to his forehead.

“Why’d you find me? Why’d you wake me?”

She reaches up, pressing her palm against his stubble, noticing how his eyes close, how he curls his cheek deeper into her hand as if he wanted to absorb her touch.

“Because it didn’t seem fair,” she whispers. “Letting you travel to the future, waking up only to find that everyone you knew, everyone you loved was gone.”

He opens his eyes, covering her hand with his. “So what happens now?”

She inhales a shaky breath as tears cloud her vision. “I don’t know.”

* * *

“You love him!” he screams, fanning his arms to the side in the small lab of the Zephyr, desperation lacing his tone.

It’s a strange kind of déjà vu, except this time it’s not even a question, and if it were, he’s not sure if he’d want her answer to be yes or no.

“Yes,” she yells back. “I do. Of course I do.”

She tries to step closer, but he moves back just as quickly and he can see the pain in her eyes.

“Because I love _you_ ,” she exclaims, passion and determination filling her tone. “And he _is_ you. And I don’t love him more. But I also can’t love him less.”

Her voice breaks, stuttering sobs escaping her throat instead. She presses her lips into a thin line, closing her eyes, trying to keep her emotions in like she always does and he hates that he’s the reason for her pain… again. Again and twofold.

She exhales a sharp breath, opening her eyes and staring at him in a mix of resignation and frustration.

“Maybe you’ve been right all along,” she says, her tone quiet now, sad. “Maybe we’re cursed. Even when we’re together, and safe, and whole… we’re cursed.”

Her words sink in. Words he never imagined she’d be capable of saying let alone believing.

His expression softens and he steps closer, rubbing her arms, trying to comfort her. “No,” he says, determined. “I told you, a love like ours is stronger than any curse.”

She scoffs, her gaze slowly wandering up to look at him. “You never told me that,” she shakes her head, “he did.”

He can see the moment it dawns on her in her eyes, the moment she puts two and two together.

“You did tell me, didn’t you?” she asks, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “I just didn’t hear it.”

He scoffs quietly, nodding in silence.

She wets her lips, her eyes tear-rimmed once more, and when she speaks up again, her voice trembles with fear. “There’s no way out of this, is there?”

His lips twitch, wanting to give her an encouraging smile and yet unable to. He pushes her hair behind her ear, resting his palm against her cheek to soak up her presence. “No easy one at least,” he whispers.

* * *

“I think it’s time we stopped avoiding each other.”

Fitz turns around, but he’s not even surprised, because how can you ever hide from someone who knows who you are, and how you think, and where you go when you try not to be seen? How can you hide from yourself?

He sighs, tucking his hands into his pockets, and like looking into a mirror, his other self does the same. “I think you’re right.”

His counterpart takes a step closer. “There’s no way out of this without someone getting hurt.”

“Nope.” Fitz taps the floor with the tip of his shoe, his gaze wandering down as well.

“But it shouldn’t be her,” he hears himself say. “She doesn’t deserve that.”

He scoffs and looks back up, looks at his younger self, his better self, unbroken self. “You think I don’t know that?”

“I _know_ you know that,” the other one replies, pressing his fingers to his chest. “I’m you, remember?” He waves one hand to the side. “—sans a few weeks of extra trauma.”

It seems wrong, that little chuckle over a joke he technically made himself. Fitz swallows, forcing himself to look at the man who’d lived the exact same life as he’d done… until their paths had split and crossed at the same time.

“She doesn’t want to hurt either of us,” Fitz says.

“Her heart’s too big for her own good.” A one-sided smile looks back at him, so familiar and yet different, and once again Fitz feels like a mirror rises in front of him as they mimic each other, not deliberately, but because they are the same soul with two hearts.

His expression sombers and he sighs. “Yes, but she can’t rip herself in half. She can’t become two. She—”

“Maybe we need to stop being selfish,” he gets interrupted by his own voice.

Fitz scoffs, lifting his shoulders. “What do you suggest? Some kind of Russian roulette?”

“I leave.”

It’s like the air leaves the room, all sources of sound disappear, and for a moment Fitz isn’t sure which version of him had spoken.

“What?” he stammers, a jolt of anger rushing through his body. “How’s that not hurting her?” He pauses, gesturing at the man across from him. “How’s that not hurting _you_?”

“She’ll still have you,” he replies, surprisingly calm. “She’ll still have the man who travelled to the future to find her. The man she married. The man who saved the world with her and _for_ her and—”

“The man who tortured her best friend while one of his inventions held _her_ at gunpoint,” Fitz interjects angrily. “The man who—”

“Stop being selfish,” his other self yells.

“How am I selfish for thinking she’s better off with _you_?” Fitz screams back. “With someone who didn’t...who won’t—?”

“He’s already there!” His voice is still loud and frustrated as he taps two fingers against his temple, leaning closer. “You _know_ he’s already there. Just because he’s not shown his ugly face yet, doesn’t mean he’s not there. You _know_ I’ve heard him. You _know_ he wants out. Just because it hasn’t happened for me yet, doesn’t mean I’m safe from him.”

“Yes, yes you are,” Fitz exclaims, tears filling his eyes. “Because she knows and she won’t—”

“She won’t let it happen to you anymore either.”

Fitz flinches when his hands grab his shoulders. It’s a strange feeling to feel one’s own touch, coming from another person.

“And you’d be protecting her from _nothing_ by leaving,” he continues, “because she’d still have those memories anyways, those same fears.” The other’s blue eyes stare at him, firmly, determined, and Fitz can see his reflection in his own eyes. “If you leave, you’re a coward, you’re giving up on her, on your marriage. Through good times and bad.”

“And if _you_ leave?” Fitz asks, trying to hold his own intense glare. “How’d she feel then?”

He lets go, his expression softening as he gestures at Fitz. “She’d have _you_. She and I’ve been through so much, but you and she have been through _everything_. She doesn’t deserve to lose that. _I_ don’t deserve to lose that.”

Fitz shrugs. “You’ll lose that if you leave.”

“No. No, I won’t.” He shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. “All I ever wanted was to make her happy, for her to _be_ happy. And, yes, preferably with me… and—” He shrugs. “I got that. She’s happy. _You_ are making her happy, which means _I’m_ making her happy. So… so I got what I wanted. But if I stay, that happiness fades away, because there’s no way out for her.”

Fitz lets his words sink in, feeling his body relax with acceptance.

“So what’ll you do?” he asks, quietly.

He purses his lips. “Finish what I started.”

“Freeze yourself?” Fitz asks in disbelief.

“And travel to the future with Enoch. That whole space marauder story has a nice ring to it,” he tries to joke.

“You’d be alone,” Fitz says aloud. _Without her_ , he barely dares to even think.

“I’ll have Enoch. He grows on you.”

“Yeah, I know, but—”

His other self raises his hand, pointing his index finger at Fitz’s chest. “I’ll ask Enoch for a full report on you when I wake up, and so help me if you didn’t make her happy, if you didn’t take her away from all this and to that cottage in Perthshire she’s dreamed of, and start a family with her like she’s dreamed of... I’ll find a way back in time and beat your sorry arse senseless.”

Fitz can’t help but chuckle. He lifts his shoulders in pretend apology. “We destroyed the last of the monolith when we saved the world.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, well, I’ll find a way.”

Fitz bites his lip, feeling his eyes turn glassy with tears. “You can’t leave without telling her.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

* * *

“You love him?” he asks softly, a smile playing on his lips, his hands lightly draped around her waist.

“Of course I do,” she replies, feeling his heartbeat under her fingertips, “but—”

“You’re happy?” he continues, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, not allowing her interjection.

“In this very moment?” she teases, hearing her voice tremble, trying to force a chuckle.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I’m happy,” she admits truthfully, unable to keep from smiling. “I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us.”

“Me neither.” The corners of his mouth tick up and his eyes light up with happiness, and yet, seeing him happy makes her own heart ache.

“I don’t want you to wake up alone,” she remarks, tracing his jawline with her fingers, watching his face become blurry in front of her as tears fill her eyes.

“I won’t,” he reassures her. “Enoch will be there. ‘Good morning, Fitz. Rise and shine.’”

She takes comfort in the confidence of his tone, and yet she can’t stop the tears from streaming down her face.

“Hey,” he says softly, wiping away the watery trails with his thumbs. “And if… well, if _that_ me—” He ticks his head to the side in the direction of the door. “—ever gets on your nerves, remind him that you have a backup floating in space if he doesn’t play nice.”

She laughs against her better judgment.

“But you won’t need that, right?” he continues, brushing her hair out of her face, before his thumb gently glides across her lower lip. “You have everything you need, don’t you?”

“Everything and more.”

He leans closer, until his lips softly press against hers.

For a moment, everything around them disappears. It’s just her and him and it’s simple and it’s effortless.

He breaks their kiss, resting his forehead against hers. “Do you think there’s ever been a love story like ours?” he asks, a bit breathless.

She shakes her head, smiling softly. “I doubt it.”

He cups her face more firmly, bringing just enough distance between them to allow her to drown in his eyes.

“We love you,” he tells her. “Every single version of us. And every single version of us would—”

She cuts him off with another kiss, not willing to listen to words about sacrifice.

She presses her palms against his cheeks, looking at him with determination. “You’re kind, and brave, and selfless, and good, and I love you,” she confides in him with conviction. “I love you!”

He grabs her wrists, massaging them gently, the happy glimmer still sparkling in his eyes. “And knowing that you love the version I could have—I _would_ have become, with its dark side, and its fears and hopes and dreams, knowing that you love him the same or even more, makes this a lot easier than I thought.”

She blinks away tears, forcing a smile, because she so desperately wants to make this a happy moment, somehow make this a happy moment even when her heart is breaking, even when it’s losing a piece though none of him will be gone.

“You won’t be alone,” she tells him with determination. “And you’ll be loved. You’ll always be loved and never forgotten.”

He kisses her again, gently, softly, like a cloud brushing against her lips and drifting away. “So will you.”

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

 

Fitz gasps, his heart seemingly jumping from zero to a hundred from one second to the next. His eyes fly open and a sudden panic overcomes him, disorientation, a high-pitched ringing in his ears.

“Rise and shine,” a familiar voice announces, and a moment later, Enoch’s face appears in front of him.

His anxiety settles somewhat and he waits for the familiar hissing of the capsule opening, remembers the trembling in his muscles, the aches of lying immobile, not just for weeks this time, but years, decades… if everything went according to plan.

He allows Enoch to help him up, wrap a blanket around his shoulders. He swallows, preparing to speak, to use his voice again after 74 years of silence.

“I have a surprise for you,” the Chronicom remarks matter-of-factly, before Fitz manages to bring his voice back to life.

He furrows his brow, watching Enoch walk to the entrance and press a button. The door slides open, and Enoch gestures at Fitz, while his focus seems to be on someone in the hallway.

“He’s awake now,” his alien friend says and Fitz feels his heartbeat quicken with uncertainty once again.

He wets his dry lips, staring in confusion at the group of people entering his room.

“He really does look like grandpa,” a scruffy young man of maybe thirty-five in a leather jacket announces, causing the wrinkles on Fitz’s forehead to grow even deeper.

“That’s because he is,” an elderly woman with greying, curly hair replies, a soft Scottish brogue decorating her voice, “—genetically speaking at least.”

She steps closer, extending her hand, smiling at Fitz warmly, and her eyes are painfully familiar to him.

“I’m Peggy Davis,” she introduces herself. “Born FitzSimmons.” She gestures behind herself at a tall man who appears to keep himself in the background, two middle-aged men, the one who’d spoken first and and another who’s carrying a little girl of maybe three or four on his hip. “This is my husband Mike,” she explains. “Our sons Deke and Zachary, and our granddaughter Jemma Anne.”

Fitz’s lips twitch, torn between continuing disbelief and reassuring realization. Slowly, he accepts Peggy’s handshake, before his focus switches to the man stepping up behind her, extending his hand for a handshake as well.

“Liam FitzSimmons,” he says, his fingers firmly gripping around Fitz’s hand. “I’m their son.” Like Peggy, he waves his hand in the direction of the people standing behind him. “This is my wife Natalia, our daughter, Rose, her husband Josh, their son James and their daughter Daisy.”

Fitz’s eyes wander from person to person, their names, their faces sinking in, becoming real.

“You’re all—” he begins, when a familiar voice echoing from the hallway interrupts him.

“They’re all your family,” he hears himself say, his tone a little rougher maybe, a bit more shaky, altered by age.

Fitz’s eyes widen in shock when the slightly hunched over figure steps out of the shadows and into the room and he recognizes himself.

It’s not like looking into a mirror anymore, and yet it still is.

“She got everything she wanted?” Fitz asks, unable to take his eyes off himself.

“Everything and more,” his older self replies. “Promised you, didn’t I? Promised myself, too.”

He walks even closer, slowly, his feet shuffling across the metal floor of the spaceship. “And I promised her I wouldn’t let you wake up alone.”

He comes to a stop in front of Fitz. His eyes have lost some of their blue, turned greyer, and yet Fitz can’t deny that this version of him looks happy, proud almost.

“Welcome to the future,” the older Fitz says, turning his head to look at his family, a smile playing on his lips. “Really didn’t turn out half bad.”

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, guys, writing this *almost* makes me glad they did what they did in canon. I mean not the HOW... definitely not the unsatisfying HOW with the multiple fakeouts and unnecessary added pain and no significant FS scenes AT ALL, and no grieving and all that... but I can accept the "THAT they did it" better.


End file.
